


Conquest

by sickbed_00



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Armitage Hux, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Milk, Omega Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickbed_00/pseuds/sickbed_00
Summary: Alt. Universe. Ben Solo is the benevolent Omega King of Naboo and will do anything to keep his people safe from the First Order. Alpha General Hux has little interest in the planet and barters it's preservation for the right to mate and breed King Solo. What choice does Ben have but to give in to the tyrant's wishes? Forced mating, forced bonding. Heats and knotting.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Omega!Ben/Kylo but I so love Ben Amidala that I wanted to try my hand at it. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated! <3 <3 <3

King Ben Amidala Solo watched helplessly as the flawless formations of First Order soldiers approached the Theed Palace. In the atmosphere, above the clouds, star destroyers hung ominously and cast great shadows over the land. Ben wondered if his grandmother, the revered Queen Amidala had felt the same sickening horror he felt now when she watched the Trade Federation put a blockade Naboo two generations ago. She had been so young then, only fifteen. Ten years younger than Ben was now. _But she endured_ , Ben thought as he straightened his spine, _and so will Naboo…no matter what_.

He had dressed in white for the occasion, a royal gown reminiscent of what his grandmother had worn at celebratory parade when she and the leader of the Gungan people, Boss Nass, made peace among their denizens. A small part of Ben hoped it might inspire a sense of goodwill and remind the First Order of Naboo’s history of diplomacy. He would need every trick he could get; at sunrise it had been reported that the _Finalizer_ , flagship of General Armitage Hux, had joined the fleet surrounding Naboo.

General Hux, destroyer of worlds. The brainchild behind Star Killer Base. A ravenous dog whose chain was loosely held by the malevolent Lord Snoke.

“Your majesty,” Ben turned to the stern female voice that greeted him. Nearly lost in grandeur of his palace was a petit, young woman dressed beige strips of linen cinched flatteringly at her waist.

“Yes, Rey?”

She drew a deep breath.

“Your presence has been requested,” her eyes averted slightly as she swallowed down a hard lump of anger, “he’s here, _in the throne room_.”

Negative emotions were all but forbidden to the Jedi but even her master, Ben’s own Uncle Luke, could forgive Rey’s disgust and loathing of General Hux. Millions had perished under his rule, the lucky ones being the victims of instant vaporization from Star Killer Base.

“I suppose we do not want to keep the General waiting, now do we?” Ben crossed his room, to the large vanity that consumed an entire wall. He briefly observed his reflection, mostly to be sure his make-up had maintained as he did let a few pained tears slip. The white foundation was perfect, the red details on his cheeks and lips exactly as how he had drawn them. He then reached out to the mannequin head for his crown; a thin tiara set with crystals brought up by the Gungans from the bottom of the Omah’ee Ocean.

“Please!” Rey called, her boots echoing through the room as she ran to Ben’s side. “Please, let me.” Ben paused as he watched the Jedi reach out and remove the crown from his hands. Smiling, he made a slight kneel to allow her to place it upon his head.

“Thank you,” Ben whispered, “will you do me one favor?”

Rey pushed away a few of his dark, curling hairs, making sure the crown would be well observable.

“Rey?”

“I cannot promise I will not kill him,” she said curtly, stepping back. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ben shot cold glares to each of the identical Stormtrooper faces he passed as he made his way down the grand stairway. Occasionally, Rey would wordlessly halt him so she might lift and billow out the train of his gown to be certain that Ben would look his most regal for the General.

They were greeted by a tall woman in mirrored armor at the vestibule of the throne room. Her white-blonde hair was short but wild and her cerulean eyes betrayed not a single emotion.

“King Ben Solo?”

“Who else would he be?” Rey snapped back.

“Order your pet to relinquish her weapon,” the woman said flatly, holding out her hand.

“I cannot order her to do that,” said Ben, “no more than I could order Rey to give you her leg or an arm. Rey and her lightsaber are inseparable. I can however request she keeps it sheathed during the negotiations.” Ben turned to her, “Rey?”

After a few heavy breaths through her nose, Rey responded, “As you request, your majesty.”

“Let the little Jedi in, Phasma,” Ben felt a chill at the sweetly accented voice of what he could only assume was General Hux and the armored woman stepped aside (although not without a deeply annoyed sigh).

More Stormtroopers lined the perimeter on the throne room, weapons in hand. Standing around the planning table was a fair amount of black clad First Order officers. Most striking among them was an officer with alabaster skin and red hair neatly brushed out of his face. Ben had seen pictures of General Armitage Hux, but he was still unprepared for how young the fearsome tyrant was.

Hux’s full lips formed a little smirk that wrinkled his cheeks.

“Ben Solo,” Ben had never heard his short name dragged out so long.

“His majesty, King Ben Amidala Solo,” Rey quickly corrected, “and it would do you well to show respect.”

“Are you suggesting a bow to a captured monarch?” Hux arched an eyebrow. “To an Omega no less?”

“Bow, you vile-!”

“Stand down, Rey,” Ben raised a hand and the young Jedi halted in her tracks.

Hux regarded Rey with a smug smile before making an approach, the crisp clicking of his heels echoing through the tall space.

“I have watched many holoprojections of your passionate speeches denouncing myself and the First Order on the Senate floor,” he began, hands clasped behind his back. “It’s an oddly crude technology, don’t you think? Effective, certainly. I could feel your malice to my very bones. And yet, you yourself, were so obscure. Just a half-transparent figure, knee-high to a Jawa. So small, I could hold you in my hand.

“I was often told to go see you in person, that your true beauty my sway me to forgo my subjugation of this wretched galaxy. I must say, standing here,” Hux’s cool green eyes moved over Ren’s bare shoulders before lifting up to meet the King’s once more. “This is the closest I have ever come to throwing it all away.”

“We do not want war here, we are a peaceful planet,” though thoroughly disgusted, Ben managed to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “Despite my words, Naboo had not engaged militaristically with the First Order in any way. I ask that you leave my people be.”

“Nabooian rulers are famously protective of their citizens, something I will admit I find quite admirable,” Hux huffed a little laugh. “But, none the less, loyal monarchs are the easiest to exploit. And, I would be lying if I said I did not find delight in putting you in such a vulnerable position.”

For a moment, Ben averted his gaze to look out the tall windows of the throne room; out to the domed buildings, rising from the lush greenery. White birds soared through the prematurely darkened skies. Only the thinnest beams of sunlight were able to break through the presence of the First Order ships.

“Pray tell, General Hux,” Ben said quietly, “what is it you want from me?”

The throne room was quiet, only the low drone of the hovering ships could be heard.

There was a rustling of fabric as Hux drew close. Ben’s senses were overwhelmed with the smell of campfire smoke, rain and damp dirt. For a brief moment, his mind detached and Ben felt himself slipping deep into some velvety abyss.

Cool leather touched Ben’s lips.

“A man cannot rule alone, he needs a mate to keep him steady…” the General’s voice purred, “someone strong, yet…”

“No!” Rey’s furious cry brought Ben completely back. She was now between him and the grimacing Hux. “His majesty is not a prize for you to run your filthy hands all over!”

“All this is my prize!” Hux declared, flecks of spits accompanying his words. “This planet, this palace, this throne and this King! It is all mine!”

In one swift motion, Rey’s green saber was drawn and thrumming with energy.

“Permission to take his head off!”

Blasters clicked into place and metal scrapped on metal as the Stormtroopers braced to fire.

With a single, misplaced lick hair falling into his face, Hux looked to Ben.

“Well?”

“Rey,” Ben put a hand on her shoulder, “put it away.”

Rey lowered her weapon as she turned but did not sheath it.

“Your majesty…”

“Put it away.”

The saber crackled as it retracted back into the handle.

“You wish for an alliance then?” Ben asked once Rey had sullenly shuffled back to his side.

“Alliance is not the word I would use. Submission, I think, might be more fitting.”

“If that is what you prefer.”

“This stoicism,” Hux said in a soft whisper, “is it all for the benefit of your people? Are you so willing to lay down your dignity…your body…To save them?”

“If I must.”

“And what,” Hux once more closed the space between them, a hand shamelessly moving over the thin fabric of Ben’s gown before settling on his taut abdomen, “if I want more?”

“General…,” Ben’s breath hitched, “I can’t…”

Hux’s faced pinched with anger.

“That’s what I thought,” he turned to his men, “Prepare ships for attack!”

“Wait, no!” Ben cried, gripping Hux’s arm, “Please! There must be-”

“I will only accept your complete submission to me!” Hux growled, “Say it!”

Ben’s vision began to blue with tears. Hot shame rose to his cheeks.

“I will submit to you, General Hux.” Hux seemed to relish in hearing the King speak his name with such broken desperation. “If you keep the lives of this planet safe, I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UUGGGGH, I wanna write more but I just can't get to it. Sort chapter but I want to keep pushing myself to finish. Please enjoy and, as always, kudos and comments are LOVED.

Hux agreed to allow Rey safe passage back to her master on Ach-To.

Ben’s suppressants were ceased, and he was barricaded into his private wing in the north tower, positioned over the sea cliffs. Three handmaids were selected among female First Order privates to serve him. The Stormtroopers that guarded the palace were carefully vetted to be sure they were only Betas.

Ben sent out a holoprojection across Naboo to let his citizens know that they were safe to not engage with First Order soldiers.

Within a matter of days, Ben Solo’s life completely flipped. He was now a hostage; his people, the ransom. The situation was almost impossible to grasp, mostly because Ben had never thought his status as an Omega would be leveraged against him like this.

Ben had quietly struggled with the fact he was an unmated Omega. He understood the reasoning; he was too tall, broad shouldered with protruding ears and a swarthy complexion. The opposite of all favored aesthetics for an Omega. Time and time again, Ben watched lithe, more elegant Omegas be chosen over him. He was never asked to dance, never asked to grace the arm of a royal Alpha.

So, he ruled alone.

Never believing his life would be any different.

Then General Hux came crashing through the sky.

It did not help that the General himself was quite handsome. Upon seeing him in the throne room, Ben felt that familiar flutter of purely visceral infatuation from his youth. That mix of fear and excitement when his eyes met those of a potential mate from across a party and Ben would shyly look away, biting at his bottom lip and hoping but not hoping the good-looking Alpha would come talk to him.

Hux’s demands did not make Ben feel prized. It all just seemed like a sick game. Even the luxuries Ben was allowed felt like a farce; the handmaids, fresh flowers sent up to his room every morning, rich meals served out on the verandah. There was a mocking undertone to it all that infuriated Ben, but he found he had little room to complain. He was, as the General had said, in a very vulnerable position. The situation could have been far worse for himself and the people of Naboo. Complaining about his hospitable treatment was not the hill he was ready to die on.

The first symptom from the removal of his suppressants was restlessness and insomnia. The new handmaids would bring him warm tea with honey and flowers, but it was only enough to help him to fall into a light, dreamless slumber. After that, Ben began to feel pain in his chest and tenderness of his nipples. Of this he spoke little of to the handmaids, but they seemed aware of his growing discomfort.

“Come, we have a treat for you,” they coaxed him one balmy afternoon down through the maze of stairwells that led to the base of the tower. There, Ben was met with cerulean fresh water pools, divided with carved out arches and tiled tableaus of the history of humans on Naboo. The baths had once been used for various rituals, but modern royals now used them for pleasure and relaxation.

Ben was happy to slip into the lukewarm waters, wandering deep enough to completely submerge his aching nipples. He dipped his head under and held his breath and let the healing property of the ancient baths consume him. Breaking the surface, the sound of his gasped breathing echoed around him in the cavernous chamber.

“How do you feel, your majesty?” A handmaid asked.

“Good, thank you,” Ben nodded.

From where they stood on the edge of the pool, the handmaids began to disrobe. Ben thought little of it, he was an Omega after all and the mingling of both men and women in the baths was quite common. One of them glided behind Ben and began rubbing his shoulders.

“Please, it’s not necessary-”

“The General wants you well taken care of,” the maid assured, moving her gripping hands down his arms.

Another handmaid presented a glass jar with a sort of dark, thick paste inside. She removed some with her finger tips and began to apply it to Ben’s chest. Though cool and soothing, the intimacy unnerved him, and Ben tried to move away.

The women tightened their circle around him.

“They are swollen and chaffed,” the maiden said sweetly as she continued to rub more on. “This ointment will help with that. You will also find it quite useful for easing the pain of nursing your baby.” At this thought, the reality of his situation came crashing down on Ben. The sudden cessation of his suppressants had already made him moody and on edge, but now he felt consumed with such a deep sorrow all he could do was cry. The handmaids waited, lovingly stroking his hair and bare skin. Once he calmed down, they led Ben back up the steps, patiently dressed him as if he were a child and laid him down in his bed.

It was the first night Ben slept without the tea.

The worse was the viscous discharge that Ben had heard crudely referred to as slick. It oozed from him, hot and thick in large globules and coated the inside of his thighs. When it came, his knees would weaken as the muscles in his stomach would tighten and then roll in waves. Never did Ben remember being told a heat was such a physically draining process, but as each day went on, he felt less and less like participating in his own life. He spent the days in his robe, dozing softly in his bed.

“The General has sent a present, your majesty.”

Ben woke one afternoon to the handmaids pulling him up into a sitting position. Indeed, they had brought him a large and beautifully wrapped box. They placed it excitedly on his lap and told him to open it. Though certain he would loathe whatever it was, Ben undid the ribbon and pushed aside the tissue. The first item to appear was a hand-written note.

_“My dear and Ben Amidala Solo,_

_As the war winds down, as my enemies fall, either to beg for mercy of fade into that final night, I find myself more and more obsessed with the thought of retuning to you. How beautiful you were that day in the palace, dressed in your virgin white, crowned with the paltry treasures of your people. I have sent something that might be more appropriate for my second visit. I am certain you will disagree, but you are in no position to argue now, are you my love?_

_Prepare yourself Ben Solo, for you will be my final conquest.”_

It was not signed. It did not need to be.

Ben sighed deeply as he began to lift the heavy black robe, the bottom of it densely beaded with gems that caught the setting sun and broke into a thousand blinding prisms.

“Mustafar fire diamonds,” one of the handmaids cooed. The others looked quizzically to her. “My father was a foreman in the Mustfar mines. There is a no more exquisite gem in all the galaxy. Try it on!”

The sheer sleeves slid smoothly over Ben’s arms, as if it had been tailor made. Ben wondered if perhaps it was, that one of the handmaids had stolen a way one of his gowns while he slept. The three of them urged him to his mirror so he might look at himself.

Ben assumed his regal pose; back erect, hands neatly folded in front of him. He had never felt so beautiful but so cheap all at once. Not even the exquisite gems could elevate the tawdry nature of the robe. The black sheer went over his chest, exposing his dark and irritated nipples. The tie was flimsy and could barely stay knotted. Ben did not know why the General bothered to send, the outfit was not made to be kept on for very long.

“We forgot something,” a handmaid went back to the bed and pawed through the box. “Here we are!”

She returned to a crown, not dissimilar to the one Ben had been wearing when he had met Hux. It was made with strangely iridescent black stones, like volcanic glass, and fixed to the base of it was some sort of beaded fabric. Once placed on his head, Ben realized it was a veil that only left his eyes exposed.

As the handmaids made a show of how stunning Ben looked, his barely-visibly eyes began to prick with tears.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't supposed to be good. Like, on any level.
> 
> I just want to write smut. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated <3 <3 Thanks to everyone so far that has supported this mess!

It was getting harder to breathe.

Ben felt light-headed all the time

He woke to sheets soaked in sweat and his thighs coated in slick.

The handmaids continued with their pampering, easing Ben’s discomfort and distracting his thoughts with aromatherapy. One would cradle his head in her lap as he laid supine on his bed and rub his temples with sweetly scented fingertips. The others would either rub the pasty ointment over his nipples or pull at his limbs with hands coated in the same oil being used on his temple.

Their touch was the only thing that helped with the symptoms of his oncoming heat. Soon though, it would be enough, and Ben knew he would be crawling on his hands and knees to Armitage Hux’s polished boots.

Ben was certain he could smell himself; a pungent, musky scent that made him feel unclean. He bathed frequently, trying to eliminate it from his body but it was of no use. As his skin grew hot and tingly, so did the horrid smell.

And his skin! Ben wanted to tear it from his frame. It did not itch, did not burn, but was rather some horrible combination of the two that would not let him be. Sleep was becoming impossible, even with the tea and aromatherapy. Ben was suffering, truly, and the handmaids began to take pity on him.

“We have requested the General to return,” he was told during one of the aromatherapy sessions. Ben was naked and sweaty and whimpering under their touch.

“Will he come?”

“The General is busy, but we made certain your condition was understood.”

_His condition_

His condition was that his body was readying itself to mate and carry a child. His condition was that his hole was slicking itself for an Alpha’s cock, that his chest was swollen, and his nipples were so sensitive that even the open air irritated them.

There was no doubt in Ben’s mind that Hux was relishing in the idea of the distressed king writhing on his silk sheets, desperate for the Alpha’s return.

Two days later, a new package from Hux arrived.

“The General is unable to return,” one of the handmaids told him sadly, “but he has sent this gift so we might assist you.”

They presented been with a stone object that had been smoothed and shaped into a generous phallus. It was cool to the touch, which Ben quietly enjoyed. Three sturdy eyehooks were forged into the base and before Ben could ask their purpose, he noticed one of the handmaids holding a thick, leather harness with a fair amount of metal loops and fasteners.

“It will not end your heat but abate enough to help you get rest,” said the handmaid. Ben numbly nodded, now understanding what Hux’s intention was.

The three moons of Naboo rose through the faint afterglow of the setting sun, casting silvery rivers across the ocean’s surface. Ben picked at a small meal; a waning appetite was a common symptom of an Omega in heat. The handmaids brought him down to the baths and let him spend all the time he needed to feel clean and refreshed.

He returned to his room naked. There was no point in modesty anymore. The handmaids were familiar with his body and the arrival of the phallus shattered any modesty Ben might have about himself.

“How does it work?” He asked, eyeing the harness as the handmaids began to undo the various fastens.

“Do not worry, we will assist you.”

The first strap went around his waist, exactly as a belt would with the silver hoops resting equal on his thighs and buttocks. The ‘Y’ shape strap hooked on each side of his half-erect cock, and the dangling strap was pulled snuggly between his legs, just wide enough to keep his scrotum secure. Behind him, Ben could feel the maids attaching the additional straps, adjusting them to make sure the object would hold.

“It will be best for you to be all fours. We want to get it in as deep as we can.” Ben nodded, amazed with how stoically the handmaid made this command of him.

He settled on the bed, on his hands and knees. Ben could smell the musk of his sweaty armpits and it made him sick. Not more than half an hour up from the baths and already he was beginning to stink.

“Just relax, your majesty,” Ben felt a hand on his lower back, “move your knees out just a bit more.” Reluctantly, he did as he was told. A new wave of hot slick pushed form his hole and Ben bent his head in shame.

There was a shift on the bed as one of the maids climbed up behind him.

“Deep breath.”

Ben sucked in all the air he could through his nose and closed his eyes.

Ben gasped as the cool weight slid inside his body. A bolt immediately hit his cock and brought it to full, dripping attention. His hips began rocking rhythmically back and forth, even though the object was already inserted to the hilt.

The handmaids worked the straps and made it so the object, no matter how slick Ben became, could not slip out. It was fully locked into place, deep inside him, heavy and wonderful.

“Roll over,” he was told with six hands helping him complete the task. Ben was in a daze, his mind focused on the pain of his hole being stretched and the needy ache of his cock.

Once on his back, instinct call Ben’s hands to his erection, but the handmaids were quick to stop him.

“Why?” He whimpered, “Why…?”

“The General has asked that you do not touch yourself.”

“Your body is his,” said another in a mocking tone, “he decides what is to be done with it.”

“But I need…” Ben’s words became garbled in his throat.

“Relax, your majesty. We are here.”

Ben tried to fight as two of the handmaids positioned his hands behind his head, pinning them firmly at the wrist. It was humiliating to not be able to touch his own body. Tried kicking them away but the action only moved the phallus deeper inside him and Ben succumbed to the new shocks of pleasure this sent through him.

It did not take much to bring Ben to climax, his body had been so hungry for attention. A small towel was placed at the head of his cock before a small set of hands began to pump him. Ben’s body arched off the bed as he began to make uncontrollable wails of pleasure. The sensory overload pushed him to his absolute edge. Ben came screaming, spilling himself beyond what the small towel could hold. He could feel the hot ooze of his semen rolling down his sides, his hole tightening and releasing over and over around the object and his legs trembling with the last of the frenetic energy the orgasm had created.

A damp towel was moved over his chest. Ben winced at the pain of being touched there.

Coming down from the high, he could finally hear the conversations of the handmaids as they quickly worked to clean him up.

“…needs to come back soon, he needs a baby…”

“…know, and he’s such a big Omega…three or four pups…”

“…leaking again…”

Again, Ben felt a cool wetness on his nipples.

“Stop,” he gasped, “don’t…”

“Please, your majesty, you’re…,” the handmaid hesitated.

Ben forced his eyes open to see his red, swollen nipples were dribbling out small amounts of white liquid.

“What…?”

“Milk,” one of the handmaids said flatly, wiping it away.

Ben was too tired though to worry about it. Once sufficiently clean, the handmaids brought Ben a sleep gown and helped him dress.

The phallus was not removed. Ben was never asked what he preferred; it was simply let inside him.

Not that the thoroughly exhausted king would have complained. The weight and shape of it being firmly held inside his hole brought him immense comfort. More than calming the symptoms of his heat, the sensation of being filled made Ben feel aligned with some unspoken need within him. A new purposefulness that seemed beyond his duties as a ruler.

His Alpha was going to mate him; he was to be a mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a good chapter, but I did not want you all to think I abandoned the ship. More to come (lawl)

The process of forced orgasm happened twice more before Hux was heard from again.

As with the first, the letter arrived smugly unsigned.

_We are victorious! A few piddling clusters of rebels exist, but nothing my men cannot handle on their own. The galaxy is as good as mine. I will return to you as the conqueror of worlds, the General who led an army to success._

_I will send a request for a holo-communication for you in the coming days. I ask that you are presentable, a reminder of what I shall be returning to claim. I also expect you to wear the lovely present I sent. It will be good for you to know my face and voice along with the sensation of being filled._

Ben felt exhausted at the idea. It was all tantamount to torture at this point. Perhaps it was intentional, perhaps the General had no desire to mate with Ben, only drive him mad with lust. Regardless of Hux’s intentions, Ben knew he had to press on with all the grace and dignity that had been afforded to him through his mother, his grandmother and beyond.

First thing with to get the phallus inserted and secure. Ben and the dutiful handmaids had become more efficient in this task; Ben leaning over the side of the bed, bracing himself with both arms as the women deftly worked the straps. The sensation of the phallus inside of him no longer gave Ben an immediate, dizzying sense of pleasure. It’s size and weight were becoming more natural, so much so he felt incomplete without it.

Since his skin was still tingling and tight from the heat, and with his nipples so raw, Ben’s choice of dress was limited. He wished to remain as covered as possible, not come across as worn-down Omega hungry for a mating. The handmaids found him a simple black and white gown with a neckline that ghosted over his defined clavicle. The back was open, tied simply with a large bow that helped to circulate air beneath the fabrics of varying weight and texture. The thick layers that made up the shape of the long skirt neatly hid away all the cumbersome buckles of the harness.

Ben wanted to send for one of the great crowns of the Amidala family, the ones he had been trained from a young age to endure. Heavy with precious stones and so tall with self-importance, each crown had required dedicated practice just to learn how to keep it balanced on one’s head. Walking and sitting and rising again were in themselves were awing task, some royals had never been able to complete them. Ben was proud that he had learned to carry each of his grandmother’s favorites.

The misery of the heat coupled with his ever-lacking sleep made him quite certain he would not be able to keep his focus well enough to balance even the simplest of the family crowns.

“We could braid your hair,” one of the handmaids suggested.

“I would like that.”

Their small hands pulled and folded over the thick strands, as lovingly as Rey’s hands once had. Ben felt them shape the braids loosely around his head to create a circlet of his own hair. When brought to his mirror, Ben smiled and felt humbled by the handmaid’s kindness.

“Thank you, it looks lovely.”

“Do you wish to do your make-up?” At the suggestion, Ben winced.

“Just my lips, I think. My skin is still too sensitive.”

Ben had never tired of the feeling of his brush drawing the cool, white paint across his face. He loved watching his hideous moles disappear under that perfect mask. But, like a proper crown some things were not meant to be. He drew the red line on his pouty bottom lip and filled in the top. It was a modest presentation, but Ben still felt proud. No one would be able to challenge his place as king.

Along with the handmaids and a few Beta guards, Ben was taken to the throne room. There, all the machinery needed to both send and receive a holo-projection was set up.

“Would you prefer to sit?” One of the handmaids gestured toward the throne. Ben felt his knees weaken, his body cry out for a reprieve. Riding the waves of his heat had left him exhausted, no amount of sleep was enough. But he had gone through the grueling effort to dress and make himself presentable for the General, sitting seemed like a waste.

So, he stood, trembling before the holo-projector.

A three-foot-tall flicking image of Hux appeared before him. Ben gasped at the sight of the General, dressed down in a pristine white shirt, the starched creases of the sleeves visible through the holo-projection. A sort of harness, not dissimilar to the one strapped to his own thighs and hips, crossed over Hux’s chest. The purpose of it left Ben perplexed, it seemed similar to a blaster holster yet it held no weapon.

“You are a true testament to the unquestionable grandeur of Naboo royalty,” Hux sounded genuinely impressed, his voice utterly breathless.

“Thank you, General Hux.”

“Have my girls been treating you well?”

“Yes, very well.”

Silence quickly followed. And then:

“Show me that you’re wearing it.”

Ben felt his muscles tighten around the phallus.

“I beg your pardon, General?”

“ _It_ ,” Hux said slowly, “I want to see it all fastened into place.” Ben’s cheeks began to burn with anger and hurt.

“I’m alone,” Hux added, “do you think I would ever share the sight of your luscious backside with anyone else? It’s painful enough to know my trusty maids have had more access to it than I have.” His smirk was broken with a small bark of laughter. “You could bounce a bloody gold peggat on that arse of yours!”

“Why must you be so vile?” Ben bit as his bottom lip, smudging the lovingly drawn line.

“Come now, don’t be shy; show it to me.”

With clumsy hands, Ben gathered up the bottom of his gown, the rustling of the thick fabric like thunder in his ears. The cool air of the throne room hit is thighs and Ben felt a chill ripple through his body. He positioned himself carefully, making sure his legs were spread apart only as far as they needed to be to show the phallus off.

“No undergarments I see,” Hux tsk-ed, “naughty boy.”

Something in his tone made Ben’s hole clench the phallus once more. When the muscles relaxed, a new wave of hot slick began to leak out from the sides. Ben dropped half the hem of the gown and his right arm braced against the throne for balance.

“Lovely,” Hux said with an adoring sigh, “absolutely lovely.”

Ben licked his ruined lips.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I won’t be satisfied until I properly fuck that little hole myself.”

A throaty moan filled the throne room as Ben sank to his knees. His body began to quake, fire pulsing through his veins. The world around him was spinning.

“Oh, your majesty! Do you ache for me? Do you wish to be fucked by the most powerful man in the galaxy?” Ben’s fingernails dug into the fabric of the chair. He laid his face down in the plush fabric and attempted to steady his breathing.

“Perhaps I put too much on you. Fallah,” Hux commanded and one of the handmaids stepped forward, “be a dear and help his majesty to his seat.”

Ben now knew tallest of the maids was named Fallah. She helped lift and ease him onto the throne just as the other two arrived with a bowl of cool water and a towel. Gently, they dabbed Ben’s face with the dampened towel until his fever subsided.

“Please General,” one of them said, eyes cast down, “he’s quite fragile, you must be careful.”

“Do not worry about me, I’ll be all right,” Ben placed his hand over the maids and guided it away. Wordlessly she nodded and stepped back, the other following suit.

“How do you like my other present?” The Hux projection asked.

“The robe is beautiful; Mustafar diamonds?”

“Indeed. And the mask; do you know why I sent it?”

Ben scowled at this question.

“I assume it is another way for you to humiliate me?”

The little Hux hologram, though stationary on the platform, began to pace around.

“Have you ever heard of a small, out-of-the-way little planet called Arkanis? Your mother certainly knew it as a hideout for old Imperial officers. It is my home world, for better or worse, and unlike my father and his ilk, I grew up with an appreciation for the traditions of the planet natives. I was, after all, technically one of them.

“Conceptually, the mask is not too different from the mating rituals of Naboo. And yes, I have found a spare moment of two to read how your people officiate a bond.”

“How do you see them as similar?” Ben asked.

“If we were to fully move forward with Nabooian tradition, you would be presented before your family in a final meal called the _Jafan Ohto_ , and please forgive me if I’m butchering it. It is the last time the Omega is even considered the person the family knows, as the mating in recognized as a process that transforms the Omega wholly.

“On Arkanis, the Omega wears this mask to show that they are no longer themselves; that they are the possession of their Alpha.”

“One cannot possess a king.”

“No, but I can bring him to his knees.”

Ben lowered his head. A few strands of hair fell from the loose braids and onto his face, clinging to the dampness that remained from the maids attempt to ease his fever.

“Another sign of commitment that both our planets share is hobbling the Omega for the mating act.”

Hobbling was a highly uncommon term; Ben knew it better as caging.

He was quiet as he contemplated the symbolism. It would render his own cock useless, unable to sustain an erection. In essence, the Omega would become a tool in service to their Alpha. It was not an unfavorable idea since it would remove the sexual element of being mated. Ben could better look at his dealings with Hux as more of a proper diplomatic negotiation.

“I have already sent a device along. It would please me greatly to see you so,” Hux lowered his voice, “impotent.”

“Of course, General.”

“I shall arrive tomorrow evening. I had given my maids instructions on how to care for you and how I expect you to be presented,” Ben’s mind began to drift away at this word; _presented_. Part of him found it revolting. But another, the part of him that wished to be a small and treasured thing, began to sing with excitement. He began to imagine the look on Hux’s face when he saw him in the robe of jewels, face coyly hidden behind the beaded mask.

Hux would go to him and put his arms around his hips and pull him close. Ben always wanted to know what it was like to rest his head on a lover’s shoulder. Hux was tall enough, strong enough. He could hold Ben all through the night, tucked under his chin and wake him with soft kisses in his hair…

“Your majesty?” Ben blinked at the image of Fallah before him. “The holoprojection is over; are you all right?”

“Yes, just…”

“Tried?”

Ben nodded.


End file.
